


Home, Dovahkiin, is Where the Heart Is

by fallenangel8794



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-05 20:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1831300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenangel8794/pseuds/fallenangel8794
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hadn't had a home in years; she didn't even know what it was supposed to feel like. So when the Dragonborn finds herself missing her home Whiterun, she questions whether it's the town or the man running it that she is drawn to. Will her heart's desire be enough to bring her home, or will her sense of duty drive her away?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To The Watchtower

**Author's Note:**

> In my many playthroughs of Skyrim, I've found that Jarl Balgruuf is by far one of my favorite characters. That's where this work spawned from. I welcome any thoughts on it and hope it's liked enough to warrant continuing!

It all started when a lean, nord woman with blonde hair and blue eyes approached his throne with a purpose that belied her nondescript leather armor.

“I have news from Helgan,” she said shortly.

Balgruuf appraised her quickly. Her shoulder length hair was hastily half tied back into a looped braid, her full lips and high cheekbones smudged with soot. Tired, sky blue eyes stared patiently back at him. They were intelligent and calculating, but not unkind. The leather armor she wore seemed a bit off in its fit of her slender body. A finely honed steel sword hung from her hip and a wooden long bow was slung on her back, along with a quiver of arrows.

“You were at Helgan?” He finally asked. The jarl was genuinely curious as to why the young woman had been at Helgan at all. She hardly looked the type to be involved in anything that was going on there, and he could tell by the tan of her skin that she hadn’t been in Skyrim long. It was likely she was an adventurer returning home at a bad time.

“Yes and the dragon was last seen heading toward Riverwood.”

This caused quite the stir between his housecarl and steward. The messenger merely stood to the side and held her tongue until the debate had passed. When the jarl turned back to her, she met his gaze steadily. The woman reminded him of well-trained solider and he idly wondered who she was, or had been before she ended up in his palace.

“You have done Whiterun a great service, friend. You have my thanks,” he paused and she inclined her head in acknowledgement, “Whom do I have the honor of thanking?”

She tilted her head as if she was surprised by his question. “Aleen,” she breathed. “My name is Aleen.”

“Aleen, please accept this gift as a token of my gratitude,” Balgruuf gestured to a new set of leather armor being held up by one of the many retainers he had at his disposal. He watched with a fair amount of delight as her eyes lit up. It was better quality than what she was wearing and looked like it would be a better fit. She took it gingerly and ran her fingers over the supple material in appreciation.

“It’s wonderful. You don’t need to do this.”

He held up a hand to forestall the protest, “It is the least I can do.” He nodded to the man holding the rest of the set, “Show her a room to change in, and relieve her of the set she’s wearing.”

Aleen looked up at him in surprise. Balgruuf regarded her with cool anticipation and a small smile spread across her face, making her seem less weary and what he was sure was closer to her age. She followed the servant to a small alcove and hastily traded her old armor for the new. The retainer was standing respectfully to the side and she sheepishly handed him her old set of armor. He took it with a nod and walked away, leaving Aleen wondering if she should return to the jarl or make herself scarce. The housecarl, Irileth, and a guard went running past her. Curiosity piqued, she followed them up the stairs.

“Tell the jarl what you told me,” Irileth prompted the panting guard.

“A dragon is attacking!” He spit out between gasps.

“What? Where?” Balgruuf demanded.

“The western watch tower.”

Balgruuf swore under his breath before turning to Aleen, “You have already done so much for Whiterun, but I’m afraid I have to ask your assistance once more.”

The woman squared her shoulders and nodded to him.

“You are the only one here with any kind of experience fighting dragons. Go with Irileth and see if you can’t take care of it.”

_I wouldn’t call running from the damn thing while I was bound like a common criminal ‘experience’…_

“It will be done.” She said out loud as she turned to leave.

“Aleen.”

She stopped, “Yes, my jarl?”

“Take this shield from my personal armory. May it protect you well.”

She took the light wooden shield and tested its weight on her arm. It was simple, emblazoned with the crest of Whiterun, but it glowed faintly with some enchantment that she didn’t have the presence of mind to inquire on as she nearly yelled her thanks over her shoulder in the rush to get to the watch tower. Balgruuf watched her go with a knot in his chest. That poor woman had done nothing to deserve him sending her to certain death. He prayed silently to the gods to watch over her on the fool’s quest, and to grant him forgiveness when she did not return.


	2. Fus

Aleen quickly learned that the enchantment on the shield granted it resistance to flames as the dragon launched more than one fireball at her that were absorbed by the light wooden barrier before they could do her any damage. This fight was beginning to wear on her, since she hadn’t had a decent meal or any sleep to speak of since returning to Skyrim. The only reason she’d returned to the gods forsaken land was to lie her last remaining relative to rest, and she had never regretted a decision more in her life.

She tackled a town guard to the ground just as another stream of fire shot from the dragon’s mouth. The impact knocked the wind out of her and she had to fight back a wave of dizziness. Pulling herself slowly to her knees, she realized in her haste to hit the deck, she had misjudged the point of impact and had thrown herself onto a jagged piece of rubble from the destroyed tower. Thankfully, she noted absently, the guard had fallen just shy of it. Righting herself completely and planting her feet, she drew her bow and launched arrow after arrow into the scaly hide of the dragon. As she loosed her last arrow, the beast fell. There was a collective cheer from what was left of the company of guards as well as a sigh of relief from Aleen. Just when she thought it was all over, the dragon corpse started to disintegrate as a strange light swirled out of it and into her. The force of it pushed her back a step and made her chest expand painfully with a rush of air. It made her skin tingle, the blood in her ears roar and the hair on her arms stand on end. Her vision blurred as the light continued to surround her. Just when she thought she had died and was being dragged to Sovengarde, everything went quiet. Aleen blinked the spots from her vision and looked around at the stunned group. They were all talking, but the words were blending together in her overwhelmed mind. Her body felt as if it had gotten a hundred pounds heavier, yet at the same time she felt she had been given the strength to carry the extra weight. There was an odd taste in the back of her throat, one that she couldn’t place for the life of her, yet it was as familiar as her own breathing.

“So can you do it?” The voice of a guard broke through the haze in her head. She turned to him, but couldn’t make her burned out brain form words. “Can you shout?” He asked.

One word finally found its way to the front of her awareness. _Fus._ Before she knew it, it was coming out of her mouth in a powerful blast of energy.

_Well, I guess that answers that._

A powerful roar filled the skies, “ _Dovahkiin!_ ”

It made the very earth shake under their feet. Aleen swallowed thickly. Wherever that had come from, she needed to go there. She could feel the certainty of that down to the core of her being. Irileth was saying something about reporting back to the jarl. Aleen nodded absently and began walking in the direction of the town.

 

When she finally stumbled into Dragonsreach, Aleen had to grab one of the pillars to steady herself before she dragged her aching body up to the throne. Whatever had happened to her out in the field had made her hyperaware of everything around her and she couldn’t process all of it at the same time. She was overwhelmed. All she wanted to do was let her heavy feet pull her to the floor where she could lie until she couldn’t see exactly how the fire made the shadows on the wall dance or hear the mingled breadths of everyone in the hall. Aleen blinked to refocus on her destination; the throne and the man sitting in it, resting his head on one hand and listening distractedly to his steward go on about how the civil war was affecting the price of his favored spiced wine. She did her best to stand up straighter and tried to force some moisture into her dry mouth. Taking a deep breath and doing her best to hide a wince, she marched up to the jarl.

“The dragon is dead.”

“Aye and you have returned victorious.”

She hummed, once again unable to form words. Balgruuf continued to speak, but she could no longer focus. The ground felt like it was falling out from under her, even though she could clearly see that it was doing no such thing. It was becoming harder to breathe as the dull ache that had settled in her chest after knocking herself and the guard to the ground was blossoming into a sharp stabbing sensation. The jarl was looking at her with his brow furrowed. She blinked slowly at him. Aleen knew she had to do something or risk making a fool of herself in front of the court. Balgruuf stood and put his hand on her shoulder, clearly needing a response from her. The added weight of his hand caused her knees to buckle. The last thing she could clearly make out was beige, fur lined clothes being pressed against her and the final wave of pain that forced her into darkness.

Balgruuf moved quickly to support her as she fell. One arm curled around her middle and pulled her against his chest while the other reached for her hips to take the weight off of her legs. Aleen was held firmly against his solid body and he was surprised to feel how muscular she really was. With her so close, he could smell the smoky remains of battle mixed with the faint tinge of sweat and something that must have been uniquely her. All at once Balgruuf was acutely aware of every point that his body touched hers and that they were standing in the main hall of his palace.

“Get a healer!” He barked, lifting Aleen completely into his arms and striding purposefully to the living quarters. Shouldering the heavy wooden door open, he walked past his room to the smaller one next door. It had a bed and nightstand on one side and wardrobe and chest on the other, with a chair in the corner. The room had once belonged to his wife’s maidservant. It had stood empty for years, ever since his wife had been taken to Sovengarde. He was now grateful he never converted it to a small armory or alchemical lab like he’d often thought of doing late in the night when sleep eluded him. Balgruuf laid Aleen as gently as he could on the bed and started unfastening her weapon belt. In this moment, he was no longer the Jarl of Whiterun. He was her equal; one warrior tending the injuries of another. Thoughts of the social implications to stripping an unfamiliar woman in his private wing were far from his concern as he pulled off first her boots and then the rest of her armor. It was still the set he had given her, but it was scuffed and dented after her victory over the dragon. It looked like it had been worn for ages, not just a single battle. He expelled a breadth as he dropped it to the floor. Aleen groaned softly and he thought she might wake, but she stayed still. Clad only in her underclothes, her injuries were plain to see. A long, deep purple bruise ran from her left collar bone down to her ribs and then across to the right and around to her back. Her fingers were scraped and bloody, as was her bottom lip. A jagged gash along the inside of her right thumb was dripping blood onto the blankets.

A knock on the door startled him; he didn’t remember closing it. Danica Pure-Spring entered and spoke softly, “I was told a young woman needed a healer.”

Without a word, Balgruuf gestured to Aleen lying prone and indecent on the bed. The priestess inhaled sharply, whether it was due to the young woman’s injuries or state of undress he wasn’t sure. He excused himself to let the healer work. Out in the hall, he let out a breadth he hadn’t realized he was holding. His steward, Proventus, was waiting for him. Balgruuf motioned him over.

“When you can, send someone in for her armor and have it cleaned up. I want it back in her room before she wakes. It’s the least we can do.”

“It will be done my Jarl. Might I make a suggestion?”

“You may.”

“In light of her service, granting her a title and a permanent residence within the hold might be appropriate.”

“There is room in the court for a new thane,” the jarl mused. “Very well. I will bring it up to her.” Proventus nodded to acknowledge the new task of readying the home and paperwork for the young woman. Balgruuf was suddenly struck by how weary he was. The day had been the most eventful the hold had seen since the high king was murdered. He made his way to his room, no longer caring what time it was. Before he shut the door, he turned back to his steward, “Wake me if she does not improve. We owe her too much…” He left the thought unfinished and shook his head.

“Of course, Jarl Balgruuf.”


	3. Home....?

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Jarl Balgruuf. She will make a full recovery.”

_Oy, shut up. Some of us would like to sleep…_

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“It was no trouble. Now, are you going to tell me who she is?”

_Wait, where am I? What happened?_

“She is a friend. I owe her a great deal.”

“So it would seem, having her undressed in a back room of your private quarters.”

_Right the dragon attack. Why am I naked…?_

Aleen sat up in the dim room and groaned as her battered body protested the movement. She didn’t recognize the room, but judging by the bandages she assumed she was in the back of a healer’s temple. The lantern on the nightstand was burning low, whether by choice or accident she wasn’t sure. Putting her feet to the floor, she began searching for her armor. It was nowhere to be seen. Had it been destroyed? She felt a small pang of loss at the thought. It was a nice set, and it had been a gift from the jarl. An argument from just outside the door caught her attention so she wrapped a blanket from the bed around her shoulders and shuffled out to the hall.

“It’s not what you think! She was hurt and I-”

“Where is my armor?” Aleen rasped. She wasn’t expecting her voice to be quite so hoarse and she began to question how long she was unconscious.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed! Get back in there before you undo all my work,” Danica Pure-Spring scolded. Aleen waved her off, causing the blanket to slip off one shoulder.

Balgruuf cleared his throat, “I had my steward take your armor to be repaired. It took quite a beating, as did you.”

She blanched a bit at seeing the jarl. She hadn’t noticed him at first; otherwise she wouldn’t have said anything while in nothing but her small clothes and a blanket. “I killed a dragon,” was all she could think to say.

He chuckled, “That you did.” She bit her lip, unsure of how to respond. She’d never been comfortable rehashing her achievements and she didn’t much like the idea of doing so clad only in a blanket. “Ah, I wasn’t expecting you up so soon. I’m sure Proventus will return before long,” the jarl continued, “Would you like something else to wear?”

“And here I thought the blanket matched my eyes so well,” she quipped.

Her response caught him off guard. It seemed that she was as quick with her wit as she was with her blade. He chuckled again, “I will have Erikr fetch you some clothes and bring them to your room.” At the mention of his name, one of the servants scurried out of the room to fulfill his given task.

“You should be in bed resting, not gallivanting around!” The priestess hissed.

“I thank you kindly for all your help, M’lady, and I will compensate you accordingly, but I have important business to attend to and cannot stay idle long.” And all at once, it was back to business. Balgruuf found himself wondering what made her drop her guard long enough to spout that one gem of humor, and what he could do to make it happen again. He was brought back to the moment when Danica snorted in annoyance and folded her arms. Aleen had said important business, and that she was leaving soon.

“I hope that business includes answering the call of the Greybeards,” he said in an effort to uncover what she had on her agenda.

“The Greybeards?”

“Aye, did you not hear the shout as you returned to the city?”

Aleen’s eyes grew wide, “I did. It felt as if they were summoning me.”

“I believe they were. The guards have been talking about what happened out there, with the dragon. Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Did you absorb the dragon’s soul after it fell?”

Her brow furrowed, “There was this strange light. Maybe it was the dragon’s soul. I’ve never killed a dragon before, Jarl Balgruuf. I can only follow my instincts in this and they are telling me to go wherever that summons came from.”

“High Hrothgar is where the Greybeards live, up the 7,000 steps.”

“That’s where I need to go, then. I will set out as soon as I have my armor.”

“Don’t you need to eat?” Balgruuf asked.

“Yes, you do,” Danica said, seemingly resigned to the fact that her patient was not going to stay in bed.

At the mention of food, Aleen realized how famished she was. “Breakfast would be nice,” a melancholy smile crossed her face. “I haven’t eaten since returning to Skyrim. It seems like a lifetime ago. Maybe it was,” she finished softly.

“How long have you been in Skyrim?”

“Only a few days. I was expecting to return to Hammerfell by now.”

At that moment, Erikr returned with clothes for Aleen and she excused herself to get dressed. Balgruuf returned to his throne, his head spinning with questions. Why had she been in Hammerfell? Perhaps she had family out there? Work? What had brought her back to Skyrim? And what exactly had she been through that made a few days seem like a lifetime? He sent word to the kitchen to prepare a hot meal as well as travel rations for his new thane. When she finally appeared in the main hall, she looked better than he’d seen her previously. She had clearly bathed, her skin was clean and bright with a slight blush and her hair pulled neatly back in another looped braid. The clothes his retainer had brought her were indigo with green and gold trim and fur lining. As she came closer, one of his guards stepped forward. Balgruuf had to hide his exasperation.

“Excuse me?”

Aleen started, “Oh! Yes?”

“It is because of you that I am still alive.”

“Is it?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. Balgruuf’s annoyance was melting into curiosity as he listened to the exchange.

“I was the guard you took to ground when the dragon attacked. Because of you, I got to meet my daughter.”

“Congratulations!”

“My wife and I wanted to show our thanks. It’s not much, but it’s what we can spare,” he passed her a small coin purse. Based on the weight, she guessed it had about two hundred gold.

“I will take half. You keep the rest and save it for your daughter.” She handed back the slightly lighter coin purse.

He took it slowly, “I will. Thank you.”

“Take care,” she said by way of farewell. Leaving the guard, she made her way to a place at the table, as indicated by yet another of the jarl’s servants. The meal was hot and over far too soon. Not entirely full, but sated enough not to bother them for more, Aleen gathered her new travel pack, full with rations she noted, and made her way to the Jarl.

“Leaving so soon?” He said.

“I am. I have much to accomplish and not much time.”

“Before you head out, Proventus has returned with your armor and the deed to your new home in my hold.”

“Beg pardon, my Jarl, what home?”

“I have made you thane of Whiterun. This entitles you to own property in my city. Just as well, since it is also a requirement,” he said with a mysterious glint in his eyes.

“And if I do not accept?” She challenged.

“Then you have made me a fool in front of my people,” Balgruuf responded with a shrug.

“Can’t have that, now can we?” She winked before motioning to Proventus. It didn’t take long before she had her armor and the key to her fully furnished new home. It was a formality, really, since she was beating feet back to Hammerfell as soon as possible, but it would be nice to have a place of her own to stay while she was here. Perhaps she could make a few trips back to Skyrim to honor her new title in Whiterun. Aleen chided herself as she made her way down the stairs to the door. Was she really going to return to this wasteland because some ruggedly handsome nord with a bit of power offered her a smile and a kind word? But it was more than that. He had offered her a place in his court and somewhere to call home. She hadn’t been anywhere that felt like home in so long, she wasn’t sure what it should feel like anymore. She had yet to settle down in Hammerfell, choosing the life of a wandering warrior and merchant over a steady roof over her head. Maybe Whiterun would be the stopping place she’d been looking for. Or maybe she was getting sentimental in her old age. Her slightly dismal train of thought was interrupted when a brunette woman in steel armor stopped her.

“My thane, I am Lydia, your housecarl.”

“What?”

“As a thane, you are assigned a housecarl to protect you and everything you own.”

Aleen exhaled slowly, trying to gauge the woman in front of her and school her thoughts simultaneously. Clearly, she took pride in her sword and her armor as both were clean and honed, and she carried herself with the calm assurance of someone used to using her blade.

“Very well,” she said finally, “come with me to Breezehome and then we will decide where to go from there.”

“You lead, I follow.” Lydia responded.


	4. Gone Again

The home was just perfect. Aleen walked through it slowly, marveling at the generosity Balgruuf had shown her. Yes, she had paid a bit of gold for it, as well as the furnishings, but clearly she hadn’t paid full price. The lower level was a small cooking fire and sitting area in the center of the room with an alchemist’s lab just inside the door and an enchanter’s table in the back behind the stairs.  The upper level was a loft, with a bedroom to the right and a smaller one to the left. The master suit had a large bed, chest and weapon rack above the bed, with a nightstand and small table. The other bedroom had a bed and a nightstand and little else.

“So,” Aleen said when she had made her way back down the stairs, “which room do you want?”

Lydia looked at her like she had spoken in a different language. Her thane shrugged.

“I’m serious. There will be places I can’t have you with me and I know you’ll be here far more than I will. If you want the bigger room, it’s yours.”

“I couldn’t possibly take your room, my Thane.”

“Lydia, from now on, just call me Aleen. I’m aware that you see me in a position above you and I know that for all intents and purposes it’s true. But I don’t see myself above you, and I never will.”

Lydia stared at her new charge, trying to gauge her words. They seemed genuine. “I will…keep that in mind,” she said slowly.

Aleen smiled brightly, “That’s about all I can ask. So, I assume you want to come with me for the time being?”

“I would like that better than staying here, yes.”

“Very well. Prepare for a long trip. I suspect we will be gone for a while.”

“There is little left for me to do, Thane.” Aleen cast her a slightly disproving look and she amended the title, “Aleen. My apologies, it will take some effort on my part. Though I hate to think what the Jarl would say to my addressing you so informally.”

“So only call me by my title when we’re around him, or anyone else that would disprove enough to take action against it.”

Lydia nodded in understanding.  She was running the name though her head again and again, willing herself to remember to use it. She had never heard of a thane asking their housecarl to call them by their first name, but she supposed anything was possible. The young woman watched her thane check what supplies were in her pack as well as her weapons and armor. Finding everything satisfactory, Aleen turned back to Lydia.

“Anything you need before we set out?”

Lydia blinked as she processed the question. “Um, no. I have everything I need.” Yet another thing that was different about Aleen. Everyone else assumed their housecarls were always ready to set out when they were, often giving no more than a moment’s notice before heading out. But she had taken a moment to make sure that Lydia was as ready as she was, and seemed prepared to make any stops she deemed necessary.

“Well, then, let’s get a move on.”

Balgruuf had received word that his new thane had left the city scarcely an hour after leaving Dragonsreach. She had made a cursory stop at her new home and departed with Lydia in tow. There was something markedly different about that woman. Maybe it was her easy willingness to help anyone who asked. Maybe it was because she was the Dragonborn of legend. Or maybe it was that air of mystery about her. Whatever it was, the Jarl found himself caught up in a spell the woman didn’t know she was casting. He prayed to the gods for her to return safely to her home, and soon.


	5. As You Wish

It was over a fortnight by the time Aleen and Lydia returned to Whiterun, battle weary and laden with goods to trade. The thane had taken them all over southern reaches of Skyrim, exploring old crypts and doing odd jobs for gold. She had let Lydia take her pick of the spoils, outfitting her with a new ebony blade and thick banded iron shield. She had opted to keep her favored steel armor for the time being, not feeling entirely comfortable wearing a dead woman’s gear. After they sold off what they had no use for, Aleen gave her housecarl a generous sum and told her to take a night to relax. After so long on the road with no one else for company, Lydia accepted the gift with a grateful smile and fond farewell, having become used to the generosity from her charge. Aleen had a kind heart and a giving soul, when she wasn’t hacking brigands to pieces with her sword, or drilling them with an arrow before they could sound an alarm. She had the habit of trying to protect Lydia, instead of allowing her housecarl to do her job. At first, it had bothered the other woman, but she had learned how to deal with it and they could fight a small army without a problem now. Lydia dropped herself into a chair at the Bannered Mare and ordered a drink and hot meal.

Aleen watched her companion depart, a small smile on her lips. She had grown rather attached to her and was glad for the friendship they had kindred. Once she was out of sight, Aleen scrubbed her hands over her face, tired beyond reason after the trip. She wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the day away. But she had things she needed to accomplish, so she trudged past her house with a resigned sigh, noting the way she was drawn to the place like she had always belonged there. She made her way to Jorrvaskr to speak with Kodlak Whitemane about the Companions and if they needed another sword in their ranks.

The conversation was interesting, and the fight with Vilkas child’s play after some of the draugr she’d gone against. It provided the stepping stone into the guild and she managed to make herself useful around the mead hall for over an hour before receiving her first official assignment and taking her leave. In the gathering dusk, she hoped it wasn’t too late to check in with the Jarl before he retired for the night. She convinced herself it was only to keep up with appearances as thane of the hold, but deep down she knew she had missed him and the city. Aleen slipped through the doors of Dragonsreach, nodding to the guards she passed. She was relieved to see him still occupying the throne and fought the giddy smile off her face. By the eight, she was a battle hardened warrior not some flowering maiden. Plastering a politely neutral expression on her face, she climbed the stairs.

“Good evening, my Jarl,” she said, not entirely keeping the enthusiasm from her voice.

“Ah, I see you have found your way to me today, after all,” he responded with a grin. He noticed she was still wearing the leather armor he had given her, though her sword was elven-made now.

“I figured it would be appropriate, given I was away for so long.”

“Yes and where were you?”

She shrugged, “Exploring.”

He raised an eyebrow but chose not to press her. “Would you care to dine with me?” He asked instead.

Her answering grin was more of a response than her polite, “I would be honored.”

At the table, he directed her to sit directly to his left, where he proceeded to quiz her about her recent travels. Once she had a bit of mead, Aleen allowed herself to indulge him, going through the burial crypts and bandit compounds, and providing more details about the draugr death lords and wraiths.

Wiping his mouth of grease, Balgruuf asked, “So, why the sudden desire to explore?”

“I get restless staying in one place for too long. It served me well in Hammerfell and I suppose it’ll be a hard habit to break.”

Measuring his words, he said slowly, “Why were you in Hammerfell for so long?”

“When my family got wind of the civil war brewing, they left Skyrim. They knew they would take different sides and didn’t want to put us kids in the middle.”

“But why Hammerfell?”

“Mom was a retired Legionnaire and Dad was a guard for the High King. They loved each other, but they were Nord thru and thru. They were loyal to their homelands. So they left hoping to leave the war behind them at the border.” She paused to take a bite before answering his unasked question, “Mom grew up in Cyrodiil and decided when she was young she wanted to be in the Imperial Legion. She met Dad when he was a mage-for-hire traveling all over Tamriel.”

Balgruuf nodded in understanding. Hammerfell was more or less neutral ground for them to continue to raise their family. Ironic that their daughter was now right in the middle of it, he thought.

“Do you have siblings?”

“I had a little sister and an older brother. Embry left right after our mom passed and the last I heard, she fell in with some thugs. I assume she’s been killed. Markus was lost to the civil war. When he found out why we left Skyrim, he called our parents cowards, and came back to fight where they would not. We got notice of his demise not long after. I think that’s what pushed Mom over the edge.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He sincerely was and felt a pang of guilt at bringing it up.

“Eh, I’ve had my time to mourn. They’re old wounds.”

They continued their meal in contemplative silence for a while. Balgruuf noticed Aleen stifle another yawn and motioned for their plates to be cleared.

“Thank you for indulging my company tonight, thane. How long will you be staying in the city?” He asked.

“Not long. The Greybeards have a task they want me to complete, some sort of final challenge to prove my identity as the Dragonborn. I’d best be getting on that, though I think Lydia would like a night or two to recover.”

“She is to your liking, then?”

“She is quite wonderful, my Jarl.”

“That is good to hear. Where is she?”

“I gave her the night off to relax and spend as she see fit.”

“How generous of you.”

“It was the least I could do. I ran the poor woman ragged.”

Balgruuf chuckled to himself. At least the woman was honest. “I can imagine you feel much the same way, then.”

Aleen looked regretful to admit she was as exhausted as she appeared and made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat.

“Rest, Aleen. There is nothing so pressing that it cannot wait until the morning.”

She smiled, both at the use of her first name and at his gentle prodding. “As you wish, Balgruuf.” She felt her cheeks reddening when she realized she had been so informal with him. His heart skipped a beat unexpectedly. It was clear from her shock that it had been accidental, yet he couldn’t shake the joy he’d felt, as if some small barrier between them had been removed. He jumped on the rare opportunity, opening himself up more than he had done since courting his late wife.

“I wish to see you again,” he said softly.

Aleen looked up at him, blinking slowly as she processed his words. “Tomorrow?” She whispered, almost as if she was afraid of taking the chance.

“Aye, tomorrow.”

She smiled and bit her lip, something he had yet to see her do. He found it quite endearing and made up his mind that he wanted to see it more often.

Balgruuf stood and offered his hand to her, “Allow me to take you home?”

“I think it should be me asking your permission, my Jarl.” She said as she stood.

With a soft chuff, he took her hand, “A beautiful woman should never have need to ask to be seen home safely, no matter her skill with a blade.”

Aleen blushed and looked away, still smiling. He was gratified that she had accepted both his compliment and his arm as they made their way out of Dragonsreach.

“Perhaps next time I dine with you, I should wear something other than my armor, eh?” She said as her padded elbow once again bumped his side.

Balgruuf shrugged, “You wear what you see fit.”

She laughed softly and let her hip bounce against his the last few steps to her house. At the door, they reluctantly released each other.

“Thank you,” she said.

“It was my pleasure,” he answered.

She should have let herself into the house and closed the door. He should have turned and walked back up the path to the palace. But they didn’t. They stood silent in the pleasant night air, waiting. For what, neither could pinpoint, but they waited nonetheless. She smiled softly at him, he smiled softly back.

The door to the home opened and Aleen quickly sidestepped the person rushing out.


	6. Timely Delay

In one swift motion Aleen stepped to the left, spun and slammed her shoulder into the steel armored body coming out of her home before she could get with sword length of the jarl. The impact forced them to the wall, pinning the intruder’s sword arm under her. Balgruuf watched with mild surprise at the speed at which his thane moved to defend both him and her home. Most swordsmen would have waited until there was room to draw their blade and given chase, but she had placed herself bodily between him and the enemy and turned them away from him. Balgruuf wondered where an instinct like that came from, and what it said about her.

Lydia gasped and tried to speak.

“By the eight, Lydia!” Aleen released her as quickly as she had apprehended her, “A thousand apologies! I wasn’t expecting you back yet. Are you alright?”

“I am fine, Aleen. I was in a rush and I didn’t even see you there until you pinned me. I should count myself lucky that you used only your hands.’

Aleen grimaced and unconsciously curled her hands into fists, “I never would have forgiven myself had I harmed you.”

“No harm no foul,” Lydia responded with a grin.

“Indeed. So, tell me, why are you in such a rush?”

The housecarl blushed. “I was looking for you. I know you wanted to leave by high noon tomorrow,” she paused, looking down, “but I was wondering if we could leave a bit later?”

Balgruuf started. She really wasn’t planning on staying long at all. Aleen tilted her head, “It’s possible. Might I ask why?”

“I met someone in the Bannered Mare.”

Aleen broke out in a grin, “That’s wonderful! Who is he?”

“His name is Erik. He lives in Rorikstead on a farm with his father. He’s here getting supplies for the new harvest.”

“And he’s asked you to supper tomorrow?”

“He has.”

“What were you planning on wearing?”

“Wearing…oh, I hadn’t thought of that.”

Aleen tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I think I have something for you. How do you like green?”

“It’s a fine color; one of my favorites. Why?”

“Come with me, then.” She turned to face Balgruuf, who had been listening to the exchange with no small amount of curiosity. “You’re welcome to come in as well, my jarl. After all, I wouldn’t have it but for your good will.”

“You earned it just as you earned a place in my court.” He responded with a nod, “I believe I will indulge in your company a moment longer, Aleen.”

She smiled at him before addressing the other woman, “Lydia, would you mind getting a mug of honey mead for the Jarl? Oh, don’t look so flummoxed, he won’t bite just because they let him off his throne.”

“Y-yes, thane.”

Aleen scowled, “Don’t start that again. If he manages to use my name, so can you.” Lydia ducked her head and scurried off to fetch the honeyed mead from the high shelf. “Make yourself comfortable, Balgruuf. I’ll return in a moment.” With a slight bow to him, she climbed to the loft and disappeared from his sight.

“Relax, Lydia. There is no need to be formal with me in your own home. I am a guest here,” Balgruuf said when she poured his drink with shaking hands.

“Yes, my jarl.”

“It seems you and Aleen have become very close.”

“We have. I count myself lucky to be her comrade.”

“She speaks very highly of you.”

Lydia brightened considerably. “Oh?”

“Yes, just today she was telling me how much she enjoyed your company and valued your skills. I am pleased you two have connected so well.”

“I am as well, my jarl. She’s a very wonderful woman.”

Before he could respond, Aleen reappeared on the stairs, “If you’re talking about me, I suggest you tactfully change topics if you don’t want me to hear.”

Lydia’s ears turned pink and Balgruuf buried his face in his mug.

“Here you are, Lydia. It should fit just fine, but try it on, just in case. I’ll need time to alter it before you wear it.” From her arm, she had hanging a green velvet dress with bronze trim and delicate embroidery around the neckline. In the other hand she held brown fur lined boots. “I’ll make you a necklace to match it tomorrow when I can use Adrianne’s forge.”

“Aleen, that’s beautiful. I can’t take that from you.”

“You can, and you will. I’ll not have you show up for a romantic evening in your armor. Does he know you’ll still be here?”

Lydia gingerly took the dress from her thane. “Thank you,” she said quietly and sincerely. “I’m to meet him tonight just before eleven to give him my answer.”

“You’d best get going then. It’s getting late.”

“I will. Thank you, again.” She took the dress and the boots up to her room before leaving the small house.

“Quite generous of you,” Balgruuf said as he set down his mug.

She shrugged, “It’s nothing, really.”

“Do you have everything you need to smith a matching necklace?”

“I do, indeed. I have a nice stash of just such things.”

He paused for a moment before speaking, “So, tell me, should I expect you in armor tomorrow?”

Aleen flashed him a flirty grin, “I expect not. I have a few other things hidden in that old chest.”

He chuckled softly and stood. “I thank you kindly for your hospitality, but I have been gone much too long, I think.”

She sighed, “I think you are right. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You will.”

“When?”

He looked at her thoughtfully, “An hour before sundown.”

She nodded, “Aye. I won’t be late.”

Aleen banked the fire and trudged up to bed, bone tired. The day had been far more eventful than she had planned for, and while it wasn’t a bad thing this time, she wouldn’t mind it not happening again for some time. With a gusty sigh of relief, she piled her armor on the floor and flopped face down on the soft feather mattress. There was a slight evening chill in the room and she crawled under the blankets when it became uncomfortable. The last thing she remembered was hearing the door open long enough to admit one person and then shut again, the bolt sliding into place.


	7. Finally Home

Aleen woke slowly the next morning, letting the light of day filter in and rouse her. She stretched, groaning with the pleasure of a full night’s rest. Eager to get on with the day, she hopped out of bed to bathe and dress. Her hair was soft, finally free of the travel dust and she let it fall around her shoulders until it dried. She absently made her bed and pulled on a linen robe, her mind still mulling over the events of the night before. Lydia had a date with a traveling farmer and she had a date with the Jarl of Whiterun. Not really what she had expected when she chose to come back to her house instead of staying in Falkreath. She had tried to rationalize her decision by saying that it made more sense to return to Whiterun because she was thane of the hold and could get better prices for the pieces she wanted to sell, besides being closer to a safe place to store the things she had wanted to keep, but deep down she knew that she had wanted to go _home_ and this place was what came to mind. Not to mention the small fact of missing Balgruuf. Aleen had caught herself more than once thinking of him during her explorations of the wilderness. Her thoughts of him centered on many questions: did he think of her as much as she thought of him? Did he notice how long she had been gone? Was he waiting for her to return safely? Was he only interested in her because of her possible role as the Dragonborn?

She was caught between being cynical of his intentions and delighted by his attentions. Aleen didn’t want to risk opening herself up to him more than necessary on the chance that she was reading too far into his actions and that he was only expressing a passing interest in a novel concept. Yet, there was a voice in her head telling her to loosen up and enjoy her time with him while she had it.

Aleen was startled from her thoughts by Lydia’s approach and turned to smile at her in greeting.

“Good morning,” she said brightly.

“I take it your meeting with Erik went well?”

“Oh, yes! I think he’s quite a catch.”

“He better see you the same way,” Aleen said roughly. “I’ll not tolerate you being hurt.”

Lydia bit her lip and tuned to the cooking pot over the fire. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I have not. I just managed to get out of bed not long before you.”

“I’ll make us something, then. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please. I’ll get it.” She reached up to one of the shelves and pulled down a small wooden box of homemade loose leaf tea they had put together using herbs they found in their travels. Lydia put water on to boil and set about slicing some apples, bread and cheese for a light breakfast.

They shared their meal in companionable silence, both lost in thoughts of what the night would hold. Gathering her mug and plate, Aleen stood.

“I’m going over to Warmaiden’s. Does that dress fit you?”

“Hmm?” Lydia said, startled. “Oh. Yes, it fits me quite well, thank you.”

“Wonderful,” Aleen responded with a smile as she made her way back up to her room to dress. She pulled on a blacksmith’s apron over her thick woolen dress and turned to the chest to collect the materials she would need to make the necklace; a gold bar and a few emeralds would make a perfect match. Smothering an anticipatory grin, she pulled out her dress for the night, a smoky grey number with dark blue embroidery around the wide mouthed sleeves and plunging neckline, as well as on the bottom hem. Sighing deeply, Aleen laid the garment gently on the bed, running her fingers reverently over the silken material. It and the dress she had given to Lydia were gifts from old friends in Hammerfell and it made her heart ache to see them again. She had sent them to her mother’s sister for safe keeping when she switched professions from bard to mercenary years ago. Her aunt’s death had been the reason for her visit to Skyrim and she had collected them from her home near Helgan when she had gone to lay her to rest.

With one last look at her gown, she reached back into the chest for silver and sapphires before heading to Warmaiden’s.

 

With a polishing cloth resting on her knee, Aleen held the gold and emerald necklace at arm’s length to admire the work she had done. She then brought it up to eye level to examine the fine engraving she added around the gem to emulate the embroidery on the dress. The chain was fine and longer than usual so it would fit perfectly in the cut of the gown. It would make a fine finishing touch to the outfit and the overall effect would impress even the pickiest of suitors. She grinned to herself as she set the piece down. Her own necklace was plain silver with a single sapphire set in the middle, simply made to offset the ornateness of gown it was made for. Both were stunning in their own right and Aleen felt herself glow with pride over the work she had done.

“Nice work,” Adrianne said, peering over Aleen’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” she grinned back at the other woman.

“Where did you learn to smith?”

“My mother taught me. She was of the mind that if you know how to use it, you should know how to make it. When I was younger, she always got so proud when I figured out how to improve my skills. One year for her birthday, I wanted to give her something special so I spent hours making her a necklace that matched a ring my father gave her.”

“Ah, how nice.”

Aleen shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. That was an unusually personal story for her to share with a stranger.

_But Adrianne isn’t a stranger._

The thought struck her cold. By the eight, she was friends with the town blacksmith. She was _home._ And it wasn’t just her house with all of her things in it; no, it was the town guards that greeted her by name and title, it was the shopkeepers that lit up when she came in laden with rare goods for trade, it was being able to walk down the street with no weapon because she was safe here. This was home.

Aleen left Warmaiden’s in a trance, overwhelmed as she was by the feeling she had just identified. Without stopping at her house, she went straight to the well in the middle of the markets and drew out fresh water to rinse the smell of the smithy from her skin before dinner. Jorrvaskr stood overlooking the market square and Aleen looked reverently up to it. She greatly respected the hall of warriors. It's honor code lined up closely with her own and the fighters who claimed residence within the walls were noble men and women.  Suddenly, she was struck with an idea. Leaving the bucket by the well, she made her way to Jorrvaskr.

Lydia greeted Aleen with a pleased yell from her room. 

“I’ve brought fresh water, if you need to wash. I’m going to heat it while I put the apron up,” Aleen called back.

“Oh, good! I was just going to go fetch some myself. You have soot on your nose.” Lydia said as she came down the stairs.

“What, where?” Aleen rubbed at her nose.

Lydia laughed, “Wash your face and it’ll come right off.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stay here. I’ll be right back to show you your necklace.”

When she came back, clad once again in a linen robe, she was holding a small pouch that held both necklaces. Lydia eyed the pouch as she decanted some of the water into two basins.

Aleen curiously sniffed the contents of a small bowl, “What’s this?”

“Oh, I was experimenting with oils. Some of richer visitors to Dragonsreach had scented oils that they would use after traveling. They’re expensive to buy and usually hard to find, but Farengar knew how to make them. He showed me how to do it and I thought I’d give it a shot to go with the spirit of the occasion.”

“It does smell nice.”

“That’s the lavender oil. It’s said to calm wild beasts. I figure if it could calm beasts, it could work on people, too. There’s red and blue mountain flower oils on the shelf. I was going to try my hand at the tundra cotton if I had time.”

“Could you show me how to do it?” Aleen asked, excitement at the prospect of learning something new shining in her eyes.

Lydia laughed. Her thane was like a child looking at a fresh sweet roll, full of bubbly anticipation of something desired. She had come to understand that Aleen loved to learn, loved to know. It didn’t matter what it was, but if there was a skill she had yet to study, it would drive her mad until she dabbled in it enough to understand it, if not master it.

“I’ll teach you. Come here,” Lydia motioned to Aleen and together they bent over the tundra cotton and reduced it to the oil they wanted.

“That’s really all it takes?” Aleen asked.

“Mhmm.”

“Why on earth is it such a big deal, then?”

Lydia shrugged, “I think it’s used more as a status claim. And since not many people care to figure it out, it’s stayed at its high value.”

Aleen nodded, “I bet you’re right. Well, thanks for showing me how to do it.”

“Don’t go spreading it around, now. This is information some would kill for,” Lydia said, mockingly harsh.

Aleen snickered. “Never fear, they won’t get it out of me!”

Lydia joined her in a fit of giggles.

After calming enough to catch her breath, Aleen picked up the pouch that held the necklaces. “Now then, I have something for you.”

Lydia stared at the small bag with a look of curious excitement. She had known Aleen was going to smith her a necklace to match the gown and had been looking forward to seeing it all day. It was no secret that she could work a smithy quite well; Lydia had watched her more than once repair, improve or make weapons and armor of all sorts, from simple iron and steel to intricate dwarven and elven pieces. Aleen handed her the pouch with a barely contained smile. Biting her lip in anticipation, Lydia pulled open the bag and carefully shook the gold necklace into her hand. She gasped.

“Oh. Oh, Aleen. It’s beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. No one’s ever given me anything like this before. Thank you. Thank you so much,” she looked up with tears in her eyes.

“Lydia, you were the first friend I had in Skyrim. I know you were assigned to me and all that, but you didn’t have to befriend me. I could have been nothing more than another charge to you, another person that you might need to sacrifice your life for and you could have resented me for that. But you didn’t. You gave me a chance and got to know me as another warrior, another person, and that means a lot to me. I’m glad that you like it so much. It’s yours to keep, along with the gown. This is my way of saying how much I appreciate you.”

Still fighting back tears, Lydia stepped forward and threw her arms around Aleen. The other woman hugged her back and they stood in silence for a moment before separating.

“I guess we should go get ready then.”

“Aye, we should.”

With a final nod, Aleen lead the way up the stairs. At the top, they went into their separate rooms to dress for the night.


End file.
